After the Rain
by Alyssa2
Summary: Slight AU. A very familiar face turns up in Aerith's church, five years late.


It had been raining.

It was days like this that Aerith counted herself lucky to live in Sector 5; while the Plate loomed heavily above the rest of the slums, here it was incomplete, the distant snarl of pipes and beams giving way to a broad swath of sky. It was nothing like the full arch of blue that waited outside the city, but it was more than the other sectors had. In Sector 5, you could watch the clouds drift by, could peer up at the few stars... and, of course, you could be rained on.

Aerith approved of rain. Even though it washed pollution down from the Plate, even it meant she had to tromp through dingy, ashy mud in her only pair of boots to _get_ anywhere, she couldn't help loving it. Her flowers were always a bit greener after a storm, the blossoms brighter and fuller. And the air smelled wonderful afterwards, thick and sweet and just a little cleaner. Children played in the muddy puddles, shrieking and laughing in delight as they made themselves filthy. Rain made the slums alive.

So Aerith hummed to herself and swung her basket light-heartedly as she made her way to the church, even as the mud sucked at her boots and she knew full well it would be a long, boring job getting the leather clean again. It had rained last night, and all was well with her world.

The church doors squeaked with rust as she heaved them open. Hanging her basket precariously on a handle, Aerith took a few moments to scrape the worst of the dirt from her soles before she entered. Even as broken-down as this old place was, it was beautiful, and a holy place demanded a certain degree of propriety. Aerith wouldn't dream of going in with dirty shoes.

... Like the owner of that set of footprints obviously had.

Aerith puffed out her cheeks and stiffly retrieved her basket as she finished cleaning her boots, starting vexedly forward into the church. The footprints were long dried, and sloppy, so the culprit must have come in during the storm; and they seemed to lead and stop behind a pew, so the odds were he was still here.

She couldn't fault him too badly; it had been raining rather hard last night, and she couldn't blame anyone for taking shelter in the church... but he could at the very least have wiped his feet or something. There was a perfectly good threshold at the door.

The offending boots came into view as she approached, but they weren't alone. That gave Aerith pause. Glancing back down at the floor, she realized there were traces of a fainter trail beside the footsteps. Two, then. But the other trail was so light... Had the mud-tracker been _carrying_ his companion?

Irritation giving way to concern, she started forward again, slow and cautious. Both sets of boots looked to be part of some dingy, overworn SOLDIER uniforms. Aerith was really starting to wonder what would have caused this, one SOLDIER dragging another into her church to collapse behind a pew, when she took one step further and a heart-stoppingly familiar shock of unkempt black hair came into view.

She heard the basket fall to the ground before she realized she'd dropped it, and her boots were pounding against the floor before she realized she was moving. Five years, five long years without a word from him or any hint of his whereabouts and now he was here, practically fallen in her lap, and she couldn't decide if she wanted to kiss him or strangle him or tie him to the rafters by his ankles until he explained everything. She settled for yelling his name, which about summed up all three sentiments.

Aerith had expected the sleepy start - what she hadn't expected was that he would snap awake so _quickly_, or that he would have his sword in hand and sweeping outward in a deadly, shining arc before she could even think.

She stumbled back out of range with a squeaking cry, but Zax was already staying his hand, the sword shuddering to a halt in mid-swing. He seemed frozen in place, propping himself up off the floor with one elbow, his blade held absurdly in midair. His eyes, wide and disbelieving, were fixed on her, staring as if she was the strangest thing he could have expected to find in this place.

"Sweetheart?" he wavered. The old endearment came through strangely to Aerith's mind, which was still gibbering quietly about swords and speed and SOLDIER ex-boyfriends. She gave a tiny nod, more reflex than reply.

Zax hadn't waited for a response; the shock was fading and he had already set the sword down, pulling himself up to a sitting position. Something like an apologetic smile tried to form on his face, but it died half-born.

"Fucking hell, I'm sorry," he breathed, shoulders hunching slightly. "I thought you were one of them..."

"'Them'?" Aerith's voice wobbled slightly. She was still working her way back to coherent thought. "'Them' who?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but then the other SOLDIER shifted and made a little, questioning noise, and Zax's attention was instantly monopolized.

"It's okay," he said in a soothing tone, gently catching by the wrist an arm that had been clumsily reaching for him. "Don't worry. They haven't caught us yet."

The blond man blinked up at Zax. It was hard to tell whether he'd understood the words or not, but he seemed to settle, his gaze wandering off into nothingness. Zax tucked the captured arm up against his companion's chest, sighing and smiling ruefully.

As Aerith's heartbeat gradually slowed to a normal pace, she became aware of something cold and hollow eating at the inside of her chest. Something here had gone desperately wrong, and her other questions were pushed to the side as she approached, sinking into a low crouch.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked quietly. Zax's gaze rose to meet hers, and turned painfully soft.

"Mako poisoning," he said too gently, sliding an arm under the other SOLDIER's armpit and heaving him up to sit. The blond was limp as a doll in Zax's arms, barely able to hold his head up as too-bright eyes stared through the floorboards. "We've been in kind of a tough position for a while, so it's been hard to get him the rest he needs... But he'll be fine. He's been getting better lately. Right, Cloud?"

At the sound of his name, the other SOLDIER blinked and turned his head muzzily in Zax's direction. A faint mumbly noise escaped him, and he let his head loll heedlessly against Zax's armored shoulder.

Aerith clasped her hands tightly over her chest, as if that might relieve the sudden ache.

"Zax," she whispered, her voice feeling helplessly small and fragile. "What happened to you?"

"It's a long, sad story, sweetheart."

"Tell me. Please. I want to know." _And you owe me an explanation anyway,_ she added silently. _I deserve to know where my boyfriend's been for five years._

She decided to keep those thoughts to herself, though, ashamed of how petty they felt when Zax was sitting right there looking like that, scuffed and dirty, with that sadness behind the perpetual optimism in his eyes and a friend helpless in his arms. Not that she knew this 'Cloud' at all, but it was obvious that he was dear to Zax. And she had known Zax well enough to know how much he wanted to take care of the people who were dear to him.

Zax regarded her steadily, and smiled ruefully. "It'll have to be later, sweetheart. I've got to find us a place to stay."

The hot rush of indignation that came in response to that surprised her. "You don't think I'd let you stay with me!"

Zax sighed and got to his feet. Cloud, unsupported, wobbled slightly but seemed to right himself. Reclaiming his sword, Zax fixed it to his back again and hauled Cloud up, draping his friend's arm over his shoulders to steady him. Aerith glared up at him, and he returned the look with a calm, even gaze.

"It's not that I don't think you _would_," he said placatingly. "I thought about asking you, actually. But I don't think you _should_. First off, we're being chased. I don't think they'll be able to track us now we're here, but I still don't want to take chances. I'm not going to gamble with your life, Aerith." The seriousness in his face and voice sent a cold shiver down her spine; and then he was chuckling softly, his eyes twinkling. "That, and your ma would kill me. I've had my share of near-death experiences for now, thanks."

"I could talk her down," Aerith offered, rising to her feet as well.

"Maybe, but you can't stop the military breathing down our necks. Aerith, there are _Turks_ on our asses."

"What makes you so sure that would be a danger to me?" she retorted, hoping her flippancy would disguise the jolt of panic. What did Zax know about her and the Turks?

"Let's just say I don't think they'd have too many qualms about a pretty girl getting in their way," he said delicately. Which sounded reasonable, but Aerith could have sworn there was a certain backpedaling quality to it.

"Then you can protect me. Just like you're protecting Cloud, right?"

"Sweetheart, maybe you didn't hear me when I said I wasn't going to gamble--"

"Zax Gunnolf, I will _not_ have you trying to take care of a poisoned man all by yourself in some hole-in-the-wall abandoned shack when I have a perfectly good cot in my closet and a working kitchen!"

That seemed to shut him up. He stared at her, electric blue eyes wide. Aerith nodded primly to herself and gestured towards the door.

"So, come with me, all right? We can talk on the way. And we'll have plenty of time to talk once you're both fed and cleaned up and settled in. There's so much I want you to tell me."

"Aerith..."

"Yes?" She folded her hands behind her back and tilted her head.

Zax seemed at a loss for words. He blinked at her a couple times, the look on his face dumbfounded, as if he was _seeing_ her for the first time since he'd woken up. Aerith matched his gaze evenly, refusing to give ground. They were going to come stay with her if she had to knock Zax out and drag them both home by their suspenders.

Suddenly, Cloud lifted his head and looked directly at Zax.

For a moment, almost too brief to see, the haze was gone. Cloud's wandering eyes finally came into focus on Zax; and Zax, dumbfounded, looked back at Cloud in wonder.

And then the moment was over, in less than a heartbeat. The focus left Cloud's eyes and he let his head droop again, sagging against Zax's shoulder.

Aerith cleared her throat.

"Cloud thinks it's a good idea," she said quietly. "Doesn't he?"

Zax let out a small, breathless laugh. "Yeah," he said, faintly. "I guess he does."

"Then, what are we waiting for?" Aerith turned and began strolling down the aisle, bending to pick up her fallen basket before glancing back over her shoulder at the two men. "Come on."

Zax came on. He moved slowly, staggering with Cloud's weight, and so Aerith waited for him. It wasn't until he was up beside her that she started walking again, and then she matched her pace to his.

She did note, however, that while Cloud did slow him down, Zax seemed oddly accustomed to carrying the man like that, as if it were old habit. Aerith frowned. There would be a _lot_ to ask about.

But there would also, she thought, smiling to herself as she stepped out into Sector 5's morning sunlight with Zax and Cloud just beside her, be plenty of time to do the asking.


End file.
